turned twenty-one last November.”
“Damn it!” she yelled and then cringed
at Mr. Oxford. “I apologize for my
vulgarity.”
“Completely
understandable,”
he
murmured. “Believe me, I have expressed
more than a few vulgarities in regards to
your aunt.”
Maralee was surprised to see hatred
behind the man’s gaze.
Mr. Oxford continued, “Begging your
pardon, miss, but she is the vilest person
I’ve ever had the displeasure of knowing.
It is not my place to stick my nose into
your family matters, but she used the
money she stole from you to buy property
in the area. She then rents it out to the
previous owners for absurd amounts of
money and if they refuse or are unable to
pay they wind up mysteriously dead—the
infallible targets of Wolf attacks on the
night of the full moon.”
“Wolf attacks?”
“Some say she has some sort of
agreement with them. An alliance of
sorts.”
“This is unbelievable,” Maralee cried.
She was trembling so hard that she feared
she would disintegrate.
Mr. Oxford rose to his feet and
hobbled over to a pitcher of water on a
side table. He filled a glass and brought it
to her. She took a sip and lowered her
hand, staring off into space.
“What am I going to do?” she
whispered.
Mr. Oxford placed a comforting hand
on her shoulder and gave it a gentle
squeeze. “I’m sorry I had to be the bearer
of bad tidings. Your father was such a
great man. I see much of his fine character
in you.”
She appreciated his complement but
was too distressed to acknowledge it. She
sat there, a thousand thoughts twisting
chaotically through her mind. “The money
is gone, but the property still belongs to
me, doesn’t it?”
“For now,” Mr. Oxford agreed. “The
bank will need repaying however, and it
is your only asset.”
Maralee stood up abruptly, startling
Mr. Oxford. She set the glass on his desk
before confronting him. “Do you mean you
plan to take the Decatur estates from me as
a repayment of those loans?” Hysterical,
she seized the old man by both arms.
“Don’t tell me that you would put me in
such an impossible position!”
Mr. Oxford couldn’t meet her eyes. “I
have an obligation to my business. We
cannot operate if we ignore outstanding
debts for too long. The legal actions have
already been filed. The property will be
auctioned off to the highest bidder, who
will undoubtedly be your aunt. She never
deposits her rent receipts. She must have
cash somewhere.”
“I can’t believe this. I stand to lose
everything,” she said, releasing the aged
banker and gripping the back of a chair to
keep herself on her feet.
“The loans are due in six weeks,” he
said. “If you can somehow pay them off in
that time frame, then…”
Maralee looked up at him. “Six
weeks?” she echoed. “That’s not enough
time for me to come up with half a million
in gold!”
“I’m sorry, Miss Decatur,” he said
sincerely. “I wish that there was
something more I could do for you.
Perhaps you can persuade your aunt…”
Maralee was silent for several tense
moments as she stared into nothingness.
“I’ll get your money, Mr. Oxford. I don’t
know how, but I cannot let her take my
family home from me. It is all I have left
of them.”
Why had she stayed away for so long?
She had trusted her aunt. Memories in that
house had haunted her, but now that she
stood to lose it, she knew it was an
important part of her.
“Thank you for your time,” she said
and let herself out of his office.
She was in a daze as she mounted the
rented horse. The trip to the front gates of
the Decatur estates on the outskirts of
town made her heart ache. The scenery
seemed the same and yet it was much
different somehow. The idea of losing it
made it more precious and vivid.
“I’ve been a fool,” she muttered to
herself. “Believing that people were
inherently good, that it was my duty to
protect them, that I could make a
difference, that I could save both my
people and Nash’s simply by loving him
enough. I can’t even save myself.”
At the end of the graveled lane, the
Decatur’s wrought iron gates stood closed
and locked. In all of her experiences,
they’d always stood wide open in
welcome. Something as simple as this
threatened to melt her resolve. Perhaps
she should just give up. Her entire life
seemed to be one enormous, hopeless
mistake.
“I can’t give up yet,” she said with
conviction, “for once, I’m going to do
something just for me. I’m going to take
my home back if it’s the last thing I do.”
The main house was just visible from
her vantage outside the gates. The front
doors opened and someone stepped
outside. No matter who it was, she knew
they could not lawfully keep her out of her
own home, and it was hers for at least
another six weeks.
“Hello!” she called loudly. “Send
someone to unlock the gates.”
The person paused and turned in her
direction. The figure started towards her
and as he drew nearer, Maralee
recognized the family butler.
“Mr.
Trayburn, it’s Maralee. I’ve
come home.”
“Miss Decatur?” he called uncertainly,
his typically tall and proud visage seemed
tired and frail. “Is that really you?”
“Yes, it’s me.” She extended her arms
through the bars of the gates. “I’m finally
home.”
Trayburn’s eyes were sparkling with
tears as he hugged her through the bars.
“Oh child, I thought we’d never see you
again.”
He released her and she looked up at
him, surprised by how much he’d aged
since she’d last seen him. “Unlock the
gates.”
Trayburn glanced over his shoulder
towards the main house. When he looked
back at Maralee, the concern in his brown
eyes was unmistakable. “Go back to
wherever you’ve come from, miss,” he
said. “I won’t tell anyone you were here.”
He started to walk away, but she
caught him by the sleeve. “I know what
has been going on,” she said. “Aunt Bailey
has taken all of my money and I stand to
lose everything. I’m not giving up though. I
mean to take back what is rightfully mine.”
Trayburn turned and looked at her. His
smile was weak, but genuine. “You are
just like your father, do you know that?”
“Open the gates, Trayburn.”
He shook his head. “Leave Dubwar,
Maralee. It’s for the best.”
“Damn it, Trayburn,” she said
savagely, “open this gate right now or you
can consider yourself fired!”
He chuckled, and ran a knuckle down
her nose. “Just like your father.”
She stamped her foot angrily. “Are you
going to open these gates or do I have to
get really ugly?”
He chuckled again, not intimidated by
her threats in the least. “I’ve missed you,
kid,” he said, reaching into the pocket of
his jacket. He pulled out a ring of keys and
held it out to her through the bars. “Let’s
just say I misplaced these somewhere.”
She took the ring from him and he
headed back to the house, an amused little
smile on his thin lips.
Maralee was confused by Trayburn’s
behavior. Perhaps her aunt had given him
orders not to allow her inside the gates, or
maybe there was some other reason why
he was trying to keep her away. In any
case, she didn’t plan on standing outside
the gates gawking at his retreating back.
She began to search the ring of keys for
those that might open the gate. After
several failed attempts, the lock clicked
open. She swung both gates wide and
secured them open with the pegs that fit in
holes in the ground. These gates would
stay open for as long as she remained
here. She remembered Nash telling her
she was obstinate the first night they’d
met. She wondered what he would think of
her now. Determined not to lose herself in
memories of Nash, she remounted her
horse and directed him towards the
stables behind the main house.
At first, things looked as they had
always looked at the manor, but as she
rounded the end of the building, she pulled
her horse to a stop in utter amazement. It
seemed her aunt had been making some
improvements to the property in her
absence. A formal garden replaced the
small vegetable patch her mother had
tended. It stretched onward as far as she
could see. Meandering paths connected
bushes, trellises, benches and fountains.
She had never seen a more extensive
garden in all of her life. It must have cost
a fortune.
Her
fortune.
While the garden was beautiful and
pleasing to the eye, she knew that she
could have put the money spent there to
much better use. Her father would have
been absolutely appalled. The forest,
which had once come within yards of their
house, had been cleared away for a wide
pasture. Dozens of sleek, highbred horses
grazed there. The stables had once been
modest quarters for half a dozen sturdy
and practical animals. Now, it had been
replaced by a brand new building at least
five times larger than the previous
structure.
Maralee dismounted and led the horse
towards the new stables. She didn’t know
if the stable master would be the one of
her memory, but surely, she could find
someone willing to return the horse to the
livery in Dubwar. Inside the stable, she
spotted a young man pitching hay in one of
the stalls and made her way towards him.
“Excuse me,” she said.
He gasped and turned to look at her.
His eyes opened wide with astonishment
and he tossed the pitchfork aside before
racing towards her. Maralee squeaked in
surprise when the young man picked her
up off the ground and spun her around in
ecstatic greeting.
“Miss Decatur!” he said. “You’re
home!”
“Oh,” she gasped. “Yes, I am. Would
you mind setting me down now?”
He complied without hesitation and
she looked up at him questioningly. He
had pale blond hair and blue eyes, a
strong jaw and a wide face, and though he
was staring at her with unmistakable
familiarity, she had no idea who he was.
“You don’t remember me?” he said,
chuckling merrily. “I guess those kisses
made more of an impression on me than I
made on you.”
She searched her memory. “Billy?”
she asked incredulously. “Mr. Trayburn’s
grandson?” The last time she had seen
William Trayburn he had been sixteen
years old. He had watched her from
whatever tree or bush he happened to be
hiding in. She had thought he was quite a
nuisance at the time. She wasn’t sure how
she’d ended up kissing him good-bye
when she’d left to rid the world of
Wolves.
“So you do remember me,” he said,
taking her hand and pumping it up and
down. “We didn’t think we’d ever see you
again.”
“I’m here to stay.”
Billy’s face fell. “Then you haven’t
heard.”
“If you’re talking about Aunt Bailey
gaining possession of the manor, then yes,
I’ve heard. I’m not going to let that happen
though.”
Billy’s face lit up with another smile.
“That’s our Maralee!” he said and
grabbed her for another unwarranted hug.
She struggled out of his grasp, but he
didn’t seem to care that she was
unreceptive to his attention. “Is this your
horse?” he asked, looking at the animal
she had brought into the stables.
She glanced at the drab brown horse